Death in the Time of Ice (8 page)

Gunda sometimes looked up and watched Jeek. This pleased Jeek very much. He knew he was not old enough to couple yet, but he yearned for Gunda to choose him as a mate when she became an adult. Kung had jeered at Jeek the other night, thought-speaking that he was sure Gunda would prefer a more mature male like himself. Jeek was proud he had not carried the altercation into a fight.

Pleasure radiated from the warmth Gunda sent him. He hoped they would couple and be as happy together as his own birth mother and father had been before his father had died. Tonight, nestled in his bearskin bed, Jeek forgot about the latest gathering and the troubles of the tribe and fell asleep, feeling warm.

* * *

At new sun, after another restless night, Enga Dancing Flower scooped up her possessions, the ones she had lined up the night before, and dropped them into her pouch. She left it next to her bearskin and slogged to the Hama’s wipiti where she helped dress the body in a soft camel skin garment, made by the New One. The New One seemed to have a large supply of camel skins. The Hamapa had not been on a long expedition to where the camel dwelt for many seasons. Camels roamed far in the direction of last sun.

Enga was not a birth daughter of Hama, but she and Ung were considered her daughters since she had raised them. The rest of the birth family of Hama helped ready her body. All but Fee Long Thrower, still away hunting, and Ung, healing in the wipiti of the Healer. Enga joined her mind with Ung’s so she could almost be there. Others communicated with the males and females on the hunt so they could participate.

What a contrast
, thought Enga to herself with a brief scowl.
I am so close to my birth sister, and Nanno Green Eyes did not spend much time with Hama, her own birth sister.
All she had ever witnessed between them were sour feelings and conflict. Could Nanno have killed her own sister? But, if she did, why now?

Enga wondered if Nanno had been in this wipiti just before the death. She had come from this direction when the hunting party had returned carrying Ung and the bundle of clothing from Kokat No Ear.

In the large dwelling of Hama there was plenty of room for all who were there. Lakala Rippling Water, the Singer, her oldest birth daughter, retrieved the special buttons the New One had made. Tog Flint Shaper rubbed her limbs with a soft skin dipped in mint-scented water. The other child of Hama, Akkal, the serious-minded Fire Tender, assisted Tog. Cabat the Thick, her present mate, also joined in and helped. Panan One Eye, her mate before Cabat, sat watching the preparations. The two males shot each other narrow looks.

Enga picked up Hama’s hair bracelets.
Shall I put these on her?
she asked Lakala.

Yes, she wore them every day.
Lakala reached into Hama’s pouch and pulled out a necklack, fashioned of tiny carved bird bones strung on sinew.
And she needs her Death Necklace also.
Lakala adorned her neck with it for the Burial.

The New One was summoned and came to quietly sew the buttons that had been ripped off back into place. His strange pinkish eyes shed tears as he worked.

Enga looked for the figure she had seen, the wooden carving buried in the dirt of the floor. Someone had removed it. She thought it might be good to bury it with Hama, but it was gone. She even looked in Hama’s pouch, but it wasn’t there either.

Enga ran to her own dwelling to get the carving the New One had given her. She had never shown it to them and maybe it would bring the tribe luck. She would fetch it and place it near the body while they chanted.

When Enga entered her wipiti she stopped for a moment, feeling the silence. It was strange that Ung was not staying there. She would again as soon as she was healed, but Enga was not used to being in a dwelling by herself. She crossed to the pouch she had left beside her sleeping skin and reached into it for the carving.

When she didn’t find it she frowned and shook the sac, snapping it upside down. Her belongings fell out, the smooth rock, her hair adornments and spear tips, all but the carving. It was not there.

She sat back on her heels. Dizziness threatened to topple her onto the dirt.

My own figure is gone, and the Hama’s has disappeared, too. Did the New One take them back? Someone else could have taken them, but why would anyone do that? I have let no one know about mine except Ung, and, of course, the New One.

She blinked, trying to clear her mind. Had she imagined the carving? She had gotten so little sleep lately she was beginning to wonder what was real. Had she dreamed about the carving? Was it not real? She would talk to Ung about it. If she had imagined hers, maybe she had imagined the figure in Hama’s wipiti.

Enga put the flap aside and left her dwelling to return to the activity, staggering slightly.

When the body was ready, Tog and Cabat carried it out to the Paved Place and gently placed it on her own black mourning cape. Pure black bearskins were only used for mourning and burials. But, since death was not uncommon among them, mourning capes were used often. Hama’s showed its wear.

Lakala Rippling Water started a Death Chant and the tribe performed a slow dance around the spot where she lay. When Cabat the Thick, the Most High Male, had signaled to cease dancing, he placed the most favored spear tip of Hama beside her. With the help of several others, he bent her limbs up close to her body, rolled her onto her side, and wrapped Hama inside the bearskin. Enga remembered, from her childhood, when the old Hama had died and her limbs had been too stiff to bend.

The dead leader was now the Aja Hama, the Former Most High Female. The three elder males, Cabat the Thick, Panan One Eye, and Sannum Straight Hair, hoisted their burden and carried their leader to the top of the Sacred Hill. Enga and the rest followed at a respectful distance. They murmured a soft chant on their way up the hill, past the Holy Cave where Fee Long Thrower would soon go to have her baby, and on to the burial ground. Enga plucked yellow flowers on her way and the others picked their favorites from among the last of the season’s blossoms. Enga held hers to her nose. The smell of their fragrant petals soothed Enga’s jagged feelings somewhat.

The males had dug a hole earlier in the day to prepare the gravesite. The Hamapa threw blossoms into the hole and covered the bottom with flower petals of all colors. Enga was glad there were enough plants still alive to line the grave with color. The breath of Mother Sky whipped some of the petals out of their hands, but most drifted into the pit.

The surviving Elders gently lowered the Aja Hama onto the petals. Enga shivered in the wind, which was growing sharp, and joined in calling out loud the name Hama had been given shortly after birth, the name she forsook when she became Hama, followed by her title, to signify her passing.

“Jansa, Hama, Jansa, Hama.”

Now they would select their next Hama and this one would be referred to as either Aja Hama or Jansa Wild Wind. She had been named for her swiftness at her Passage Ceremony.

Tog and the other males placed a few heavy rocks on top of her. Tears flowed like rain from Enga’s eyes. She stayed in mental touch with Ung, still confined, and with Tog Flint Shaper, now standing on the other side of the burial hole. The others communicated with each other silently, and they all mourned together.

Even Nanno Green Eyes managed to shed a few tears, but Enga wondered if they were genuine.

The mourners stayed on the windy hill for the amount of time it took Sister Sun to travel two hand-lengths through Mother Sky. The cold kept Enga’s eyes open and her head from dropping forward with exhaustion.

They held hands, weeping and intoning, then, one by one, began sifting handfuls of dusky-smelling dirt onto the rocks and bearskin that covered Aja Hama. The males finished burying her, deep enough so coyotes, peccaries, and lions would not smell her and dig her up.

The rest of the sun time was chilly and the Hamapa stayed quiet, except Ongu Small One, who walked about and hummed a light tune. Enga wondered if she was trying to cheer up the tribe. Most of them were thinking of the next step, anointing the new Hama. Enga couldn’t think of anyone who would be a good replacement.

* * *

Just after Sister Sun went to mate with Brother Earth for dark time, Enga Dancing Flower was roused from her torpor. She had managed to drift into a restless sleep, but now the hunters were returning. The children ran to greet them. Most of the adults had no energy. And they could tell from the hunters’ emotions they had not killed a mammoth.

Enga had not been asleep, but she had been comfortable on her bearskin. With a glance of regret at her warm bed, she emerged from her wipiti to see Fee Long Thrower step onto the Paved Place. She held up a small porcupine she had brought down, then turned toward the Healer’s wipiti. Fee screwed up her face and doubled over, dropping the animal. Vala Golden Hair dropped the two snowshoe hares she carried and helped Fee to the Healer’s. Fee’s birthing pains had begun.

* * *

The meeting a short time later was short and dispirited. The Saga was one Jeek had heard Panan One Eye tell before, and he did not go into much detail. Only that a short-faced bear, in a time of great hunger, had once attacked the birth mother of the birth mother of the slain Aja Hama. No one mentioned anything about thinking a bear had killed Aja Hama.

Jeek’s eyelids were sagging in boredom when Nanno Green Eyes rose.

The males should leave on the trading mission at new sun
, thought-spoke Nanno to all.

Jeek was alert now. His mouth pursed into a small circle. Nanno had never brought up something the leaders had not already started a discussion on.

There were two waves of unenthusiastic opposition. Jeek intercepted the thoughts of Enga Dancing Flower.

I do not like the idea of Tog Flint Shaper being gone for several suns. But that would be better than being gone several full moons.

Then Jeek caught the agitation of Roh Lion Hunter, birth mother of Gunda and mate of Donik Tree Trunk, the largest male in the tribe.

It is not good for all the prime males to be away,
put in Roh Lion Hunter.
And two of them just returned from a hunt.
She had recently lost a baby and her mood had been irritable lately. Her mate was still doing many things for her, helping with the other children. The rest of the tribe digested her feelings, but didn’t agree with her and Enga. The other females thought the trading mission was needed.

Jeek was surprised Roh had spoken out against Nanno, who was her own birth mother. But, after he considered it, Jeek thought Roh was a lot more like the Hama they had just buried than like her own mother, and was closer to her, too.

They discussed the plans until all agreed that a group of four males would depart at first sun for the nearest tribe of fellow beings, strong, sturdy people like them, some with fiery hair also, called the Cuva.

I hope the Cuva have much food to barter for our fine Hamapa knives
, thought-spoke Tog.

The tribes of different statures, as well as more who were similar to the Hamapa, lived farther away. Some, the Tall Ones, looked like the New One, slender and even taller than him, but with dusky skin. Others, the Mikino, were tiny and dark-skinned, with small heads on their sharp little shoulders. All these were potential trading partners if, for some reason, they could not trade with the Cuva. The Mikino must be treated with care, but Jeek knew they had been traded with in the past.

Finally the Most High Male stood with a loud grunt. He lifted both arms high before he spoke.

Jeek knew from his teachings that the Hamapa spoke rarely. Only when they wanted to be sure the Spirits could hear them. His mother taught him that thoughts served as their communication with each other. Tribes built like the Hamapa, compact and stout, could generally understand each other. Kin could always understand kin. And the more closely related, she told him, the better and more complete the communication. The Hamapa were mostly kin, so they had no trouble giving thoughts back and forth. Enga Dancing Flower and Ung Strong Arm, who came from another tribe as babies, had learned the Hamapa thought-speak quickly when they came. Others, who came to mate and stay, adjusted without much trouble.

A decision was going to be Pronounced. Jeek sharpened his hearing and jiggled one foot with excitement. Concentrating, Jeek watched Cabat’s fleshy lips carefully. He was proud that he could understand all the words.

“Hoody! Listen! The Most High Male Speaks. The Hamapa trade with the Cuva people. Mother Spirit of the Sky, Dakadaga, bless the Hamapa.”

Now
, thought-spoke Enga,
since Hapa has spoken it and the Spirits have heard it, it is official. We will trade with the Cuva. Dakadaga, bless our mission.

Jeek joined the others.
Dakadaga, bless our mission.
He drew a wisp of hair into his mouth and chewed on it, pondering the decision of the tribe. It did not seem like a good time for this mission, so close to so many other things happening. But he knew the journey must be made. Rumbling noises came from his hungry, empty-feeling belly.

The bigger problem he saw was that the Pronouncement had been made without any discussion or vote. And without an official leader. A Pronouncement, heard by the gods, was a powerful thing. Jeek wondered if this decision, initiated by Nanno Green Eyes, was a way for her to assert leadership so she would be elected the new leader.

Chapter 7

The teeth and jaws of the Cro-Magnons are larger than in modern Europeans, as was average stature and (probably) lean body weight. Estimates put early Cro-Magnon height at about 1.84 m (6 ft 1 in) in males and 1.67 m (5 ft 6 in) in females, with lean body weight at perhaps 70 and 55 kg (154 and 121 lb) respectively. So while body weight was comparable with that of Neanderthals, the weight was distributed differently, and the body proportions certainly contrasted strongly…